Fire and Ice
by maraudersmaps
Summary: Set after the horrific double date with James and Vernon as mentioned in Pottermore and before Petunia's wedding. Lily is cut from Petunia's life once and for all.


"What… what do you mean I'm not a bridesmaid anymore?"

"I thought you were _normal_, Lily. Now I know that you're… that you're one of them. A_ freak_. Why you haven't been put into a mental institution yet, I don't know…"

Lily bit back tears, sweeping a sheet of long, dark red hair away from her face. She tried keeping her voice level, but failed miserably, her sentences cracking.

"But.. but, please, I _have_ to be a bridesmaid at your wedding, I'm your sister! Please, Tuney-"

"Don't call me that." Petunia snapped immediately, narrowing her blue eyes as they glared coldly into the green ones before her. "That's… that's just - no."

A tear escaped and streaked down Lily's pale cheek, soon followed by more as her will crumbled. She let herself break down, grabbing the smooth kitchen worktop in front of her for physical support.

"Is this… is this about the restaurant? James didn't mean to offend anyone, honestly, Tune- Petunia." She sniffed, hating herself for sounding so absurdly pathetic. "We don't have cars in our… our world. He's a Pureblood, he doesn't know much about Mugg - non-magical people -"

The sudden flurry of magical terminology, coupled by the accidental reminder that Petunia was not a witch, sent the blonde backwards slightly, her shoulders shaking as if she were bottling up years of bitterness. Which, of course, she was.

"Whatever." She breathed out harshly, grabbing her keys from the table. "See you later, Lily."

"No! No, Petunia, please." Lily broke out into a fresh wave of sobs. "I'm so sorry, Tuney. I'm so sorry that everything happened like this. But I'm your _sister_. How can you cut me out of your wedding? I can't help who I am, and I wish you would just _accept_ me."

Petunia ignored the use of the childhood nickname, her nostrils flaring as she flicked her head to the side, her immaculate hairstyle bouncing.

"I did accept you." She said frostily, sneering at her younger sister with apparent disgust. "You have no idea how many times I stopped myself telling Mum and Dad that they should send you to rehab. But they never listened, and now look what you are! I've always said that you're a weirdo, making plants dance around, changing the colours of your dresses… and then later on, going to that school, coming home every holiday, with that weird trunk and that weird owl, _embarrassing _me in public. How can you walk around with a stick in your pocket and think that you're normal? And then, when I thought that you'd finally had a _hint_ of normality, coming to a perfectly average restaurant for a perfectly average meeting with Vernon and I, but no, your _boyfriend_ goes banging on about racing brooms! _Racing brooms_, Lily? I almost had to sedate Vernon! I don't want to be associated with _mutants_ like you."

Lily's blood turned colder with every word - she listened to Petunia's speech in a stunned silence. Pity and helplessness turned to shock and rage, coursing through every cell of her body as she jumped up from her seat, so violently that Petunia flinched, as if she were expecting Lily to hit her.

"No, Petunia! You don't get to do this! Why are you blaming me for how I was born? How could I change? How could I block my abilities? And even if I could, I wouldn't - because I love who I am, I love the world I'm a part of, and I love James Potter, and if you can't be sisterly enough to at least accept that and be happy for me, then maybe -"

"Maybe what? What, exactly?"

The momentary rage fizzled out, and Lily found herself flopping back onto the kitchen stool, feeling strangely exhausted.

"Then… then I don't know. Just… please. _Please_, Tuney. I'm begging you. Don't do this."

More tears threatened to spill, but Lily tried once more, a last-ditch attempt, a final burst - green eyes locked onto blue once more, and both sisters said nothing. After a few merciless, calculating moments, Petunia turned on her heel, leaving the kitchen and entering the hallway.

"Goodbye, Lily. Don't wear orange to my wedding." With a slam of the front door and a rev of an engine, a seventeen-year-old girl was left alone in her home, sobbing uncontrollably into her arms.


End file.
